11:00
by say enithing
Summary: No matter what he says about Shiro, Asugi isn't fooling anyone but himself.


"So, you and Shiro?"

The question snaps the silence in two.

Asugi is still; hovering in front of his mouth is a muffin, pinched between his thumb and forefinger. "What about it, Naps?"

"You two-" Dwyer sips his cup of coffee "-are really close for lord and retainer."

The last three words make Asugi's stomach lurch; his father echoes in his skull (" _SAIZOSAIZOSAIZO_ "); and he almost- _almost_ \- loses his appetite.

But he won't. Because: it's a beautiful day- sun shining, birds tweeting, all that jazz- and gods be damned, he won't let this conversation ruin it.

"Who said I was his keeper?" His nose crinkles. "Not that I'm anyone's, in the first place."

Dwyer blinks owlishly, "But you spend a lot of time with him."

"On patrols." He bites into his snack. "I dunno much about being a servant but I do know there's a difference between camp duties and kissing ass."

Beat.

" _crimey shit_ No offense."

Beat.

"Naps?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

"Right." Asugi swallows. "Anyway: Even if I was a retainer- not gonna happen- I wouldn't want to serve a muscle head like him. Gods, I feel myself getting a migraine just thinking about it."

Dwyer purses his lips. Then, he opens his mouth. Closes it. Before opting to drink from his mug instead.

Left in peace, Asugi continues eating.

Until Dwyer drawls, "So, you aren't a couple, then."

The moist mush that was once muffin bread decides to lodge itself in his throat. Asugi coughs and heaves and pounds himself in the chest, forcing himself to choke it down his esophagus.

In between breaths, he says, "I'm fine. I'm fine. You can put the staff away, Naps."

Dwyer does not put the staff away. It lays on his lap as he rubs circles on to Asugi's back.

"I rather not have you die while I'm here. It would ruin my credibility as a butler."

"I told you I'm all right." He tsks. "I'm in so much tip top shape that I can confirm- yes, Captain Obvious- the numbskull and I aren't dating." He grabs his water skin. "One: we're not that close and we won't ever be. Two: he's not my type."

Eyebrow cocked, Dwyer leans forward, eyes not leaving Asugi's face.

 _Too close_. Asugi leans back. "You don't believe me."

"No."

He scoffs, twisting open the bottle cap. "Listen here, Naps. What I said is the truth. So, drop all your funny ideas about Prince and me."

"... If you say so." Dwyer shrugs, releasing his hold on Asugi's personal space.

 _Good_. Asugi pours water into his mouth, yet-

"Incoming, eleven o'clock."

-he almost spits it back out.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, except the devil is _**fucking**_ Shiro in all his shirtless glory.

"Hey, guys!" He waves. "How's it going?"

"Yo." Dwyer v- signs.

Shiro strides up to the bench and _shit_ , _there's sweat_ and it's rolling down his taut abs and pecs. The sun's shining down like a spotlight and Asugi swears every muscle is glistening like a damn ore.

He gulps.

It's hurting his eyes. He tells himself as he turns away.

Only to be greeted with the sight of Shiro plopping down next to him.

"You guys doing okay?" He smiles and oh gods, it's burning Asugi's retinas.

"Yep." Dwyer nods, popping the p.

"That's great! How about you, 'Sugi?"

 _Breathe. Just breathe._

"I was doing just fine." Asugi's face is burning; he blames the heat. "'Til you came along. Who said you can call me that anyway?"

"Awh, don't be like that." Shiro places an arm around him and presses his body close. The smell of dust and perspiration wafts off of him. It's disgusting (but Asugi doesn't dislike it).

"Ooh, muffin!" Shiro plucks what's left of his cranberry pastry and pops it into his mouth. "Delicious!"

"O- oy!" Asugi sputters. "That was my lunch!"

"Sorry, 'Sugi!" Shiro scratches the back of his neck. "After all that exercise, I got the munchies. Here," he's so close, their noses are almost touching, "I got some crumbs left in my teeth. You can have those if you want."

Shiro's lips are curled into a grin as his grey eyes twinkle, teasing in both dimples. The freckles on his face taunt him, targets for kisses. His bangs are pulled back by his headband, brown hair gold in the noon rays.

Asugi inhales sharply.

"Stop being gross." Hand on Shiro's cheek, he pushes him away.

"Kidding, kidding." The dimwit chuckles and damn it, Asugi feels warmth bubbling in his core. "Now, back to training." Shiro stands up (finally), wiping his palms on his pants. "Later." He walks back to the arena, the contours on his back rippling.

(His toned ass is a nice show in itself).

"... Gay."

"Shut it, Naps."

Dwyer only smirks.

* * *

 **I thought this was going to be a drabble. But then, I typed more than a hundred words.**


End file.
